


Unexpected

by myhamsterisademon



Series: Tumblr Works [10]
Category: Le Comte de Monte-Cristo | Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 15:34:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17286731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myhamsterisademon/pseuds/myhamsterisademon
Summary: Edmond was seventeen when he gave a proper, pleasurable kiss for the first time. Surprisingly, it happened with Fernand, and not Mercédès, like he had always thought it would. Edmond was going away the next day, on his first trip with monsieur Morrel’s company, and he wanted to give his friend a goodbye.





	1. Chapter 1

Edmond was five when he met Fernand for the first time. The boy, about two years older than Edmond, was cradling a minuscule baby in his arms, looking incredibly protective and sullen, almost angry and suspicious. 

Edmond had been surprised to see how delicately the other child bore the baby and he had trotted up to him, demanding to see the little creature that required so much carefulness.  
Fernand had drawn back but then had reluctantly accepted to let Edmond look at the bundle. The baby had turned out to be a little girl, called Mercédès, Fernand’s cousin, three years younger than Edmond. She had opened her huge, dark eyes and had smiled at them both. Fernand had lightened up and that was the moment when Edmond knew he would not let this boy go.

And that’s how the trio was formed, Edmond barely able to contain his joy every time he spotted his new friends at the market, Fernand barely able to talk in French and little Mercédès barely able to walk.

 

Edmond was eight when Fernand started growing more protective of him and of five-year-old Mercédès. The older boy would not let them play at night, when everything was dark and when drunk men and women would scream, nor he would let them go too near the harbour. 

Edmond felt happy: his mother had died three months ago and he needed attention, his father Louis too caught up in his grief to care properly for his son. Fernand gave Edmond the attention he was seeking, sometimes almost too much (Mercédès used to complain and run away from their friend, too independent and free to bear Fernand’s smothering). 

 

Edmond was thirteen when he kissed Mercédès for the first time. It was just for the fun, she had said, her dark huge eyes glowing in the sun and her laughter echoing in the room.  
Fernand was with them and he had cruelly, bitterly mocked Edmond when he had at first refused to kiss her.  
The younger boy could not, probably did not want to understand why Fernand had seemed so angry with them when they had parted at last, but he dismissed it. Fernand was often angry, anyways.

Edmond was seventeen when he gave a proper, pleasurable kiss for the first time. Surprisingly, it happened with Fernand, and not Mercédès, like he had always thought it would. Edmond was going away the next day, on his first trip with monsieur Morrel’s company, and he wanted to give his friend a goodbye.

He didn’t know how they ended up from arguing violently to kissing each other, with Edmond sprawled on a bed, and Fernand’s hot mouth on his, their tongues swirling together, hands roaming clumsily and soft moans echoing.

When he came back six month later, tired, homesick and nauseous, his friends were waiting for him at the harbour quarter, their arms linked together, Mercédès smiling bright and happy and Fernand’s eyes glittering in the sun.


	2. Chapter 2

Edmond comes back six months later, heartsick, exhausted and sad, nausea sloshing in the pit of his belly, his eyes tired from seeing too much of the sea, his throat sore from tasting too much of the salty wind. His heart almost bursts from too much sadness and longing when he sees Marseilles, and he doesn’t hold back the tears.

Nobody mocks him. They know what it’s like. 

He spots Mercédès and Fernand, arm in arm, waiting for him, mingled in the crowd – but they are easy to see, for Edmond, at least. The older boy doesn’t smile back at Edmond, but he can see how his eyes light up, so he doesn’t take offense of Fernand’s usual sulkiness. 

Captain Leclère doesn’t let him go until he has finished all his chores, until  _Le Pharaon_ is safe and sound, until the other sailors have gone away too. Edmond doesn’t mind. He knows they will wait for him, just like he has waited for them these whole six months. 

Finally, he hops down the ship and Mercédès runs to him, takes his hands and smiles, beautiful and wild as always.

“We missed you!” she says, smiling widely and happily. “Oh Edmond! How we missed you! Never leave us again, do you hear me? We missed you too much for our own good!”

“And I you,” he answers, grinning at Fernand who is slowly walking up to them. “Come, let’s go home,” Edmond says, taking both of them by the arm, too worn out to feel anything but relief and melancholy.

“You are tired,” the older boy says gravely. “You should stop by our house. Mother will have food and drinks ready for you, and you can spend the night.”

“I need to see Father first.”

“Oh, he is not here!” Mercédès chirps, still holding him tightly. She’s holding both of their hands, walking between them – proud and untamed, the freckles on her tanned arms and shoulders invisible under the setting sun, her black hair twisted up in a braid – the kind of braid she liked to fashion Edmond’s hair into, when they were little and he would let his hair grow long. Fernand is calmer than Mercédès; his serious, grave looks still there, barely lightened up by an occasional smile. 

“Where is he?” the young sailor asks, still gazing at Fernand. He’s grown up a bit, he thinks, his chest is slightly larger than before and he is almost handsome, now. 

“He’s gone to Avignon, I think,” Mondego says. “Will you stay at our house?” he asks again, staring right at Edmond’s eyes. The latter, inexplicably, blushes. 

“Oh, please do, Edmond! We have missed you so much! You shouldn’t stay alone. You must tell us everything about the places you have been to, the wonders you have seen. It will be like listening to  _Les milles et une nuit!”_ Mercédès doesn’t stop pleading and begging until he accepts; she claps her hands when he finally does and even Fernand laughs out, though briefly.

Edmond is tired, his stomach aches and he wants to see his father, but he is content.

 

Four hours later, the whole household is asleep. Edmond is in Fernand’s room – madame Mondego has obliged him to eat something, drink a lot and have a walk before resting down, and yet the boy can’t sleep. 

There is something in his mind – something he wants to talk about, and yet he dreads it. He doesn’t want to face the truth right now, he wants to stay here, listening to Fernand’s calm, heavy breathing and yet he can’t, he needs to get it off his chest, otherwise he won’t rest at all but he’s  _scared_ and –

“Sleep,” comes Fernand’s deep, tired voice. “Stop thinking, Edmond. Sleep.”

“I can’t,” the boy whispers back. “I missed you,” he adds then in what almost sounds like a whine, feeling  childish and forlorn and tired. “I missed you.”

Fernand doesn’t make a sound for a minute, and then Edmond hears him get up and a sudden wave of relief surges in his heart. He breathes freely now, and even scoots a bit to make place for the older boy.

Fernand slips in with him under the covers, Edmond curls up against his chest and sighs again. Fernand drapes his arm across the sailor’s waist and holds him there for a while, before briefly pressing his lips to his forehead, his cheek. Edmond sighs a third time, contentedly. 

“I am here now,” he whispers, his lids already drooping. “I am sorry I was away.”

“It’s fine,” Fernand murmurs. “I’m here, too. Sleep, now.”

“You won’t go away.”

It’s not a question, but Fernand answers anyways:

“No. Sleep.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From [this](https://monte-cristo-incorrect-quotes.tumblr.com/post/171130690972/your-roommate-is-crushing-on-me-and-my-roommate) prompt

**Author's Note:**

> From [this](https://monte-cristo-incorrect-quotes.tumblr.com/tagged/listen-i%27m-not-gonna-judge-you-over-this-ship) prompt


End file.
